Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Thursday, February 4, 2010

It is dusk The crescent moonHiding behind dark cloudsAll day longIs coming out.The school children, in joyful companyAre returning by the five thirty busCrossing the bunds of love.Above the harvest- approaching –fieldBirds in sickle formation are returning homeAfter a day’s hard work.In the house by the fieldsBy the side of the unprotected wellWaits a woman, baby in hand for her husbandThe baby’s eyes kiss the moonHis lips the mother’s nipple.She alone can see the baby moonShining in his eyes.How many little moons may be risingToday in this village….Translated by:AJAY SEKHER